Thursday Nights
by FrankandJoe3
Summary: Superheroes are just like us inside, only they look sexier in spandex. But what do they do in their freetime?


**[Insert Funny Before Note]**

**Disclaimer: [Insert Funny Disclaimer]**

They were just walking. That's what they did best. Some days, they'd walk to McDonalds and go play at the Play Place just to piss off the workers. Other days they'd walk to Wal-Mart and push each other around in shopping carts or just mess around to count how many awkward stares they got. They liked to go to the mall and head upstairs to the pet store and hold the rabbits and rats and make funny faces at the dogs. Today though, they were just heading to Sonic. It was Thursday, and Thursday was their Sonic day. It was the day they'd bring their homework down to the middle table, order a drink and use 'teamwork' as they called it.

Dick always had trouble with Science, and Wally knew practically nothing about Algebra, so they were practically the perfect study pair. It was probably considered cheating by the teachers, but what Mrs. W and Mrs. V didn't know wouldn't kill them, and if it did, would it really matter? No one really liked them anyway.

Wally and Dick set their binders, red and green, at their middle table and raced each other to the ordering screen. This time, the ebony had just barely made it before Wally, drawing a scowl from the ginger's lips.

"Damnit," Wally grumbled, rolling his eyes.

Dick smirked widely, sticking out his tongue. He didn't reply though, his eyes scanning the list.

"What are you getting?" he asked Wally, a mini idea of what he wanted in his head.

Wally pursed his lips in thought.

"Root beer float," he decided, jamming the huge red button that had 'ORDER' written in huge letters beneath it.

Dick's eyes narrowed and he exhaled sharply.

"How do you know I knew what I wanted?" he snapped.

Wally returned the glare before backing up and smiling gently.

"Because you get the same thing every time," he said simply.

Dick opened his mouth to shoot back a retort, but he stopped when he realized it was true. He shrugged.

"Good point."

"Welcome to Sonic! May I take your order?" a woman's voice asked brightly through the speaker.

"One medium root beer float," Wally said quickly, cutting off Dick.

The blue eyed boy elbowed his friend, but it wasn't hard enough to hurt. It just caused a giggle.

"One small orange Fanta and one small Sprite," he ordered, ignoring the knowing smirk that he felt on the back of his neck.

"How did I know?" Wally chuckled.

Dick just backed up and listened to the woman relay their order.

"That'll be five thirteen."

They headed back to their table and sat down side by side, opening up their binders.

"So, what do I have in Algebra today?" Dick asked, pulling his Science Folder from the front folds of his binder.

"Today, you have uh… something with those goddamn fractions. I don't know how you can like fractions," Wally shook his head slowly.

He pulled out a wrinkly sheet of white paper, sprinkled with the evil that was fractions. Dick took it, grinning ear-to-ear. Wally snatched the red folder from the thirteen year old as if it was a bucket of KFC.

"I don't know how you _don't _like fractions. It's science I don't get," Dick complained, pulling two sharpened pencils from his binder.

Wally shook his head. "_You're _the insane one."

Dick tapped his eraser against his bottom lip, looking over the first question.

"Don't doubt my insanity bro. It gets me places. When I take over the world with my army of crocodiles, you'll be sorry," he insisted, touching the lead to the paper.

_4 ½ _he penciled in, not even bothering to check it.

"I _know_ you're insane because only you would like crocodiles while fearing frogs. I'll never understand that," Wally argued.

_If Maria drinks nothing but Monster Energy Drinks for a month, then she will probably get really sick from all the excess sugar and will have sugar-crashes _he penciled in for the hypothesis.

"Frogs are disgusting," Dick stood up for himself, putting _2 ¾ times 6z _for number 18. "They're all slimy and jumpy and they stick to your skin and EGH!" he shivered at the thought.

"Frogs are flipping awesome! They're fun to catch and I love when they do that ribbit thing," Wally argued.

Dick sighed, shaking his head swiftly to brush off the idea.

"You can take over the world with your dumb little frogs, but me and my crocodiles will _kill _you!" he teased.

"One medium root beer float, one small Fanta and one small Sprite?" the waitress lady asked, coming out of the store with the three drinks on her serving tray.

Wally glanced her way for a second, checking her out in that one second before weakly raising his hand.

"That's us," Dick called without glancing up from the Algebra.

She set down the root beer beside Wally and the two small pops in the middle of the table. Dick glanced up from the Algebra for a moment at the brunette and gave her the money, exact change, before glancing back down to his own little language of the nerds. He set a straw in the Sprite and began to drink from it first like he always did.

"So…" Wally forged Dick's name at the top and continued the paper.

He caught his friend's eyes, so he continued to talk.

"You know Maranda right?" he began.

Dick nodded, "The stuck up snooty bitch who dated Thom last year? How could I forget her?"

His eyes darted from the math to the face of freckles.

"Yeah, that's her. She comes up to me at lunch and she's like, 'Hey, jackass; aren't you the one who punched Jackson last year'?"

Dick's lips parted, "She thinks it was _you?"_

Wally shrugged, "Yeah, I guess! C.J. must've blamed it on me because he knows how much she liked Jackson, and now she _totally _hates me!"

"It figures C.J. would pin it on you. Wasn't he gay for you last year or something?"

Wally nodded, throwing up his hands in exasperation, almost smacking a little girl walking by. He turned around and swiftly apologized before turning back.

"He's just mad that I didn't like him back, so he decided to blame me for it. I think he's still gay for me too."

"That's sick!" Dick winced, frowning at number twelve.

Their conversation went on as most conversations did, and when it finally ended after both homework assignments had been completed. It seemed simple and pointless to others, but to the best friends, Thursday was _their _night at Sonic. Better yet, Thursday was _their _night. And they planned to keep it that way. Except for in the summer, because summertime was mission time and the League wouldn't take too kindly to Sonic night.

**Well, hope you liked it. This was dedicated to Hannah Parker. Thursday will always be **_**our **_**Thursday night at Sonic. I mean, when we go that is… Heh ;) **

**-F.J. **


End file.
